


Enlarged Emblem

by Artemis_Dreamer



Series: Squishy MegOp [6]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Dessert & Sweets, Drabble, Fat Robots, Fluff, Food/Feeding Kink, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Post War, Weight Gain, Weight Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 15:32:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9241814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Dreamer/pseuds/Artemis_Dreamer
Summary: "Make a bigger one." Megatron repeated irately. Honestly, did everymech need their servo held to get anything done around here?---In which Megatron discovers the consequences of his actions, and summarily ignores those consequences.





	

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This is a work of fetish fiction, involving weight gain, unhealthy eating, and implied belly stuffing.
> 
> Don't like, don't read.

"Just make a bigger one," Megatron scoffed impatiently. 

He couldn't have cared less about so called "religious ceremonies," and couldn't have cared less about "ceremonial attire" either. So what if some old belt was too short to encircle his chassis? 

His claws absentmindedly stroked the vast swell of his abdominal plating, feeling his tanks grumble with emptiness. Yes, he'd been gaining weight rapidly as of late, but not nearly rapidly enough - Prime's girth had once again nearly caught up to his own.

Superiority complex aside, this discussion was a thoroughly pointless waste of his time. He was already late for lunch.

"My lord," Alpha Trion exvented with exasperation. "The Belt of the Protector is among the sacred garments of Cybertron's rulers. It has been passed down for countless millennia, and -"

"Make a bigger one." Megatron repeated irately. Honestly, did everymech need their servo held to get anything done around here? 

He couldn't give a scrap about sacred garments, be they countless millennia old or otherwise. Cybertronians rarely wore clothing of any kind, and Megatron in particular was not an ostentatious mech. 

He hadn't wanted to go through with this pompous slagshow of a ceremony in the first place. He'd only agreed because his conjunx had promised him such a generous bribe - the Prime's blueberry pies were to deactivate for, and half a dozen of them all to himself was worth any amount of ceremony. 

They were not, however, worth Alpha Trion's incessant badgering. 

"I'm afraid it isn't that simple," the elderly mech began explaining some nonsense about how the power of Primus himself was imbued in the belt, about how such an artifact could never be replaced or recreated, about how -

Megatron rolled his optics and pulled a box of cookies from his subspace. Chocolate chip, he mused, completely ignoring the old mech's ramblings as he began to eat. The box only contained a dozen - it was barely enough to be a snack. 

He'd need much more fuel to properly fill his tanks, and even more still if he wanted to maintain his advantage over the Prime.

Alpha Trion's speech was becoming more agitated, his servos gesticulating as he carried on. Something about the preservation of the sanctity of the - 

Oh, for Primus's sake. 

The vehicons had been placing bets on how long it would take for that old fool of a mech to have a complete processor breakdown. Megatron had three hundred credits down for sixteen-and-a-half vorns from now, and he wasn't about to lose.

"Do I need to repeat myself?" Megatron interrupted, his tone dangerous despite the fact that he was speaking through a mouthful of cookies. 

Alpha Trion wheezed an exasperated exvent, glaring at the warlord with thinly veiled disgust. He made no secret of the fact that he disapproved of Optimus Prime's choice of Protector. 

"I will not violate millennia of tradition simply because of your... girth." The old mech retorted. 

Megatron's plating bristled with irritation at such a blatant show of disrespect. Did that little fool truly think that some petty derisive remark could change his mind?

The warlord was thoroughly proud of his size. His large, warbuilt frame had become truly impressive as his girth increased. Megatron's massive size was a testament to the renewed prosperity of Cybertron, the renewed prosperity of the planet that he and his conjunx had dedicated their functions to restoring. 

There was really only one way to deal with such disrespectful mechs. 

"You may not be willing to violate tradition," Megatron growled, "but I am. Replace the belt, or I will replace you." His threat was underscored by the rumbling of his underfed tanks.

"I understand, Lord Megatron," Alpha Trion grumbled, saying his title as though it were a particularly vile insult. 

The warlord dryly observed that he had often been addressed in more respectful tones by Starscream. Yes, even his traitorous Second had a higher regard for him than this insolent rusted-out scrapheap. He was sorely tempted to reprimand the old mech further, but now was not the time. He was half a frelling cycle late for lunch.

"Very good. You're dismissed." 

Alpha Trion gave a half-hearted bow, gathered up the offending garment, and left Megatron's office. The door slammed loudly behind him. 

Megatron growled with frustration. Unless he could be persuaded otherwise, the warlord had every intention of punishing the old mech quite severely for such an insult. 

Luckily for Alpha Trion, Optimus Prime had a remarkable knack for persuading Megatron. Particularly with gifts of fuel, and particularly when the Prime fed that fuel to him by servo.

His chubby little Prime, feeding him bite after bite of delicious blueberry pie, until his tanks ached with excruciating fullness beneath his tight and distended plating. Until he could barely force himself to take another bite. Until he was too full to even contemplate moving.

Exactly as he had been promised. 

Stuffing the last of the cookies into his greedy maw, Megatron smirked. Yes, he could definitely be persuaded to be lenient.

After lunch.

**Author's Note:**

> At some point, Megatron is going to realize that his rivalry with Optimus is a Catch-22. Hopefully not anytime soon, though.
> 
> Any and all feedback is appreciated.


End file.
